


Furry Peppermint Christmas

by Paraxdisepink



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Catholic Character, Christmas, Fluff, Light Bondage, M/M, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paraxdisepink/pseuds/Paraxdisepink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://stevebucky-fest.dreamwidth.org/307.html?thread=688179#cmt688179">Prompt fill.</a> It’s the first Christmas Steve has Bucky back and he’s ashamed to say he doesn’t know what to get him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Furry Peppermint Christmas

"What do you want for Christmas?" Steve asks Bucky for the fifth time in a week. He's running out of time and so far Bucky hasn't been much help. 

Bucky looks up from his laptop where he's been shopping online for gifts for the past two hours. Steve isn't sure how he ended up in charge of most of the present-buying, but it's good to see the old Bucky who loves Christmas. 

"I don't need anything," Bucky shrugs, too busy scrolling through yet another webpage. "We got Natalia some jewelry, and Thor the whole collection of Xena DVDs since he likes her so much, but what the hell do we get Stark? The guy has everything."

It's an improvement over _We have to get Stark something?_ which is what Bucky said last week. Apparently Steve's arguments about hard feelings being counterproductive to team cohesion hadn't gone in one ear and out the other like he feared. But Bucky just likes to needle him sometimes. 

"I've already got it covered. I drew a sketch of him flying in the Iron Man suit. They say a one of kind of anything is priceless and it was easier than shopping for him."

Bucky makes a face. "What am I supposed to do to contribute? Add a few scribbles? Bake him a fruitcake?"

Steve looks at his watch. He has a SHIELD briefing in half an hour. "We'll worry about that later. Right now just think of what you want." He gets his coat on and leans down for a kiss. "I'll see you soon."

**

It's not as soon as Steve would like. A HYDRA scientist making yet another bid for world domination decides to cut into his holiday shopping time by playing cat-and-mouse for a whole week. Steve captures him, and ten minutes after he gets home Bucky's lying on his back and Steve's lost in the heat of him and the closeness of his legs wrapped around him. It's so good, that rare feeling that he's where he belongs, and it stops mattering whether it's 1945 or 2013.

When Bucky's curled up against his chest afterward, Steve remembers that the clock is ticking when it comes Bucky's Christmas present.

"Have you thought about what you want yet? I could use a little help here, Buck."

Bucky shifts to get more comfortable and pulls the covers up. "I told you, I don't need anything."

"I have to give you something. It's the first Christmas I'll have you back."

"Draw me a picture."

Steve sighs. "I can't give you the same thing we're giving Tony. Besides, I used that one up how many times?"

Bucky grunts something that might be agreement. "Make me pancakes, then."

"I make those for you all the time. Think of something else."

Bucky goes quiet, and after a few minutes Steve realizes he's dropped off to sleep. It's clear he's not going to be any help. 

**

Tony unveils a new design for the quinjet in the lab at Avengers Tower. It's faster, more aerodynamic and is able to fly at both lower and higher altitudes than the current model. He goes all out to demonstrate this in an elaborate holographic presentation, but as much as Steve cares about more efficient rescue and deployment for the team, his mind is on what the hell to get Bucky.

It doesn't go unnoticed, and with a sigh, Stark gives up and turns off the hologram. 

"I'm sorry," Steve says before he can complain. "I'm a little distracted trying to figure out what to give Bucky for Christmas. 

Tony's expression makes Steve feel even more of a failure for being at a loss. "You haven't gotten Barnes a present yet? Isn't Significant Other the first person you shop for? Don't tell me your forgot after all that whining you did about missing him."

Steve glares at him. Of course he didn't forget. He just has less free time these days than he did food growing up and he expected Bucky to provide a little more guidance.

"Well what did you buy Pepper?"

"Her own custom Stark-designed state of the art vacation home in St. Tropez. I drew up the plans six months ago."

Steve doubts Bucky would want anything that fancy. Maybe once, but he's too much of a simple soldier at heart now for those kind of things.

"I just don't have any ideas," Steve lets out a long sigh.

Tony isn't very sympathetic. "You've known the guy for how many years...?"

Steve has the grace to hang his head. He knows he should be ashamed.

"How about a week at the spa? Sometimes the guy's a little intense."

What did Stark expect given what Bucky has been through? Sunshine and smiles all the time? He's not wrong though. Bucky could be intense, and plain old tense, especially when he lets himself dwell on the past too much. But Steve tries to imagine him in a fluffy white robe while strangers put their hands all over him and it just doesn't seem like Bucky.

Tony has to twist the knife by adding, "When he sees what I got him I'll bet you anything the thought of sleeping with me crosses his mind."

Steve rolls his eyes.

**

He comes upstairs to the sight of Natasha putting a big box under the tree with Bucky's name on it. Well, 'James'—she's the one person allowed to call him by his given name. 

"That's a big present," Steve says. It's wrapped with care with a big red ribbon to boot.

"He desperately needs a lot of it," she says dryly. "

These days that could mean anything from something to smile about to a little more reason to counter his recklessness. Whatever it is, Steve's sure she's giving it with love. She's just as close to Bucky as Steve is in some ways. If anyone else would know what to get him it would be her.

"What's in it?" He really can't guess by the size of the box.

Natasha smiles a 'you can only try' smile. "Not so fast, Cap. For all we know, you could break under tickle torture. Some secrets have to stay closely guarded."

It's thick with humor and Steve tries very hard not to blush. Bucky better not have told her... 

"I just don't know what to get him. It's the first Christmas I'll have him back. Seems like it should be special."

Natasha's smile softens, but her answer is no less dry. "Is it too soon for the ring?"

**

Later that day, Clint puts his present for Bucky under the tree. The box is smaller than Natasha's and not very heavy. 

"He's going to fucking love it," Clint announces. 

Instead of fishing for what it is this time, Steve asks, "Got any more ideas?" since everyone else seems to know what to get him.

"There's a set of tactical knives he's been looking at. I could send you the link."

"Not a good idea. The last thing I want is for him to think I think of him as a killer."

Clint shrugs. "Yeah I guess we don't need to see a grown man moping. Have you seen those sexy sets they have for men? The ones with the silky santa boxers and the santa hats? You could wear that for him. They even have these gift baskets of peppermint lube and massage oil." 

Steve tries not to blush that Clint is so matter-of-fact about something that in Steve's mind should be private. All he can picture is Bucky laughing at his silky red shorts though and it seems conceited to give your partner yourself as a present. 

"If you want my advice," Clint goes on, "get him about three bottles of massage oil. The way he was unloading on the shooting range the other day, I'm starting to think the sound of gunfire calms him."

**

Steve looks through Bucky's things for ideas while he's not home. He finds no help there. Bucky isn't much for material possessions anymore. What he needs is to make peace with the past, accept that people care about him, and that he deserves a new life here in the future. Steve can't buy him that though and is forced to work harder to come up with something he can.

He turns on the TV in frustration and stumbles on a program about pets for vets that shows struggling, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder-ridden soldiers smiling and playing with overly affectionate cats and dogs. Steve only gets to see a few minutes of it before the phone rings with a call from Fury.

**

Three days until Christmas and Steve has nothing. He has until noon on most websites for guaranteed delivery, but the stores don't have anything special enough for a first Christmas with a long lost love you thought was dead. Clint sends him the website for the knives and Steve wonders if letting Bucky know he accepts what he is, past and present, isn't exactly what he needs. He's so desperate, he looks at the silky santa set and the baskets of peppermint lube and massage oil too, but they come with white furry handcuffs and Steve's not sure Christmas is the appropriate time to find out how Bucky feels about bondage. 

**

The evening before Christmas Eve, Bucky's angry about something. On his way to another briefing, Steve catches a glimpse of him on the helicarrier, slamming his metal fist through a bulkhead, he's so worked up. An agent yells, "Dammit, Barnes, get some therapy," but when Bucky gets home he insists he's fine and was only mad the Giants lost again.

It isn't until Steve catches him folded up on the couch looking like he wants to throw the remote through the TV screen that Steve decides he knows exactly what to get him after all.

**

His doesn't have much time early Christmas Eve to pick it out. He's not sure it's something Bucky would even like, but Steve thinks about how hard things must be for Bucky's sometimes, the memories, people who know the truth half waiting for him to snap. There has to be days when he's afraid he might—Steve has those days. He thinks about how hard it is for men of their time to ask for comfort when they need it, and his idea suddenly seems like the best one. One choice stands out among all the rest that Steve hopes will be perfect. 

He makes arrangements to leave it with a neighbor—a junior agent—until they get home tonight. She's barely twenty-one and thinks it's the sweetest gift she's ever seen. 

** 

He and Bucky attend a fund raiser for disabled veterans that afternoon. They put on Santa hats and serve food and Bucky's so out of practice with his propaganda duties anymore he's rubbing a jaw sore from forcing a smile after a couple of hours. They pose for enough pictures in their Santa hats and shake enough hands to last the year. No one clamors for them to kiss under the mistletoe though.

**

Tony throws a party in the mansion. Bucky drinks enough bourbon and eggnog that Steve hears a few giggles out of him and a lot more chatter than he usually makes these days. 

Steve smiles.

They open gifts. Tony gives Bucky a specially-designed pancake machine that measures the batter, flips them, and everything. For Steve, he's made a coffee machine that he can just talk to, since "technology beyond the Dark Ages has got to be so hard."

Bucky thanks him, but that's not good enough.

"Admit it, Barnes. The way you feel about pancakes, you're thinking about sleeping with me right now. If it weren't for Cap," he adds quickly.

Bucky makes a sound between a grunt and a laugh. He does himself proud as a world class spy by putting on a face like he's about to kiss a particularly slimy slug and bends to humor Tony with a kiss on the cheek. "I wouldn't go that far, Stark, but thanks." 

Natasha gives Bucky a box of new clothes that aren't jeans and t-shirts. Apparently what Bucky desperately needs in her eyes is fashion help. He gets "presentable" shirts and pants and even two pairs of decent dress socks. Steve gets a box of clothes too. He can be trusted not to go to a public event looking like he's thrown on whatever's on his floor, she says, but he could stand to be a little less grandpa in his wardrobe choices.

Clint gives Bucky some fancy scope for one of his rifles. He gives Steve a Target card, proud to be the first person to show Captain America the singular joy of a Target card.

They leave early. Bucky isn't much of a man of faith, or even raised Catholic, but he comes with Steve to midnight Mass. They stop for coffee to sober him up on the way and walk in to the glimmer of candlelight on stained glass, a full crowd of worshippers, and the almost haunting beauty of the choir singing. The priest talks about the need for peace, in the streets, in the world, and in the hearts of men and women. He talks about how God forgives and how letting go and forgiving yourself is the first step toward trusting yourself in His hands. Bucky looks at Steve. He knows Steve hasn't forgiven himself for what Bucky's been through, but the more the priest talks about God's love and mercy in forgiving sins, the harder Bucky bites his lip and Steve can see he wants to believe.

Steve slips an arm around his waist and pulls him closer.

**

Bucky kicks his shoes off and flops on the couch when they get home, their presents in a pile on the floor beneath him. His stamina for social events isn't what it used to be in his dancing days.

"Christmas is a lot less exhausting when you spend it stuck in a foxhole," he grumbles.

Or when you didn't have anything. Steve smiles at him, hanging his coat and putting away his scarf and gloves. 

"But you had a good time?" 

Bucky nods and tucks a throw pillow under his head. "Yeah. I'm ready to take a shower and go to bed though. You?"

They have another long day tomorrow. President Obama wants them at the White House for an event in the late afternoon.

"In a little bit. I want to give you your present first."

Bucky sits up. "Thought I told you I didn't need anything."

"I didn't listen." 

Steve is proud of himself that Bucky hasn't caught on yet. He told him he was going out for groceries that morning and didn't come back with near enough for the amount of time it took. He even visited the neighbor twice today—once while Bucky got ready for Tony's party and once before he came in just now. Steve will be sure bring this up next time Bucky laughs at him for being no good at stealth. 

"It better not be anything expensive," Bucky says in a voice that's all empty threat. 

Steve smiles. "It's not the Depression anymore, Buck. Money's not a problem." He walks over and pulls Bucky's scarf from his neck. "But I want it to be a surprise." He lays the scarf over Bucky's eyes and ties it at the back of his head. "I left your gift with the neighbor while we were gone. You'll have to wait a minute while I go get it."

Bucky's mouth sets into a pout beneath the makeshift blindfold. "You're not gonna tie me to the bed too? I'm feeling cheated here, Steve."

"If that's what you wanted, you should have told me." Steve gives the top of Bucky's head a kiss. "No peeking."

It only takes Marisa the junior agent a minute to shove Bucky's present into a carrying box full of holes for air and hand it over to Steve. She wishes him and Bucky merry Christmas, and hopes Bucky likes his gift.

They also get a cookie basket in red cellophane wrapping. Sugar used to be so expensive in Steve's day, but now it seems you can't turn around during the holidays without someone handing you a whole platter of homemade cookies. The excess is a little startling, but these smell delicious.

Bucky is right where Steve left him. His mouth curves up at the smell of the cookies and Steve sets them on the kitchen counter for later. Bucky's present goes on the coffee table, thankfully without a peep to give it away.

"You ready, Buck?"

"Yes..." He's getting impatient. He does look ridiculous with a scarf around his eyes.

Taking a breath and hoping this is as good of an idea as it seemed in his earlier desperation, Steve opens the box and lifts out a good fifteen pounds of shaggy Christmas present. He walks it over and carefully places it in Bucky's lap.

Completely caught off guard by the sensation of a warm, four-legged creature, Bucky yelps and rips the scarf from his eyes. Steve wishes he had a pencil to capture the priceless shock on Bucky's face as he stares at the huge, long-haired tuxedo cat he startled off his lap that's now staring back at him from the floor.

That cat's more confused than wary. His almost dog-like friendliness won Steve over at the rescue and Steve can see he's eager for attention from the warm human on the couch—he just doesn't want him to jump again or make anymore loud noises.

Bucky's still working to rein in his disbelief. "Steve, what the fuck...?" He tries again. "That's my Christmas present?"

Steve nods. The cat sits and watches Bucky with bright yellow-green eyes like a fat, shaggy cookie jar.

"The way you beat yourself up, I thought you could use the extra love. I saw a documentary on pets and soldiers on TV and I thought one would be good for you. They're supposed to help with anxiety and stress."

"You help with-" Bucky starts to say, but the cat is coming toward him again and Bucky goes quiet. He leans down and hesitantly holds out a hand. It's the metal one, and the cat starts scratching his cheek against the rougher joints of Bucky's cybernetic fingers. Bucky breaks into a smile.

"You like that, furball, even though it's cold?" 

The cat rubs his face harder and lets out a loud, rumbling purr. 

"Do you like him? I figured a cat would be easier to take care of than a dog. A nice animal like that shouldn't be in a shelter."

Straightening, Bucky pats the couch and the cat jumps next to him. He pets him with his real hand and the cat leans into it and purrs louder. He seems starved for affection, squinting his bright eyes. Bucky keeps smiling, one finger smoothing the cat's long mutton chops that blend into the huge ruffle around his neck.

"Never had a pet before."

Steve sits next to them and rubs the back of Bucky's neck. "Looks like the two of you are getting along just fine."

Bucky lifts up the cat and puts it on his lap between him and Steve. "Come on, furball," he tells him, "you can't ignore Other Daddy." 

The cat's docile enough that he lies down where Bucky puts him. Steve's hand wanders through his long black fur and the animal keeps on purring, doubly happy with two warm humans petting him.

"You got him a litter box, right? And he's gonna need a toy or something."

"It's all in the closet, Buck."

Bucky lays his head on Steve's shoulder and after a moment says quietly, "I don't mean to be moody. It's just sometimes..."

He doesn't finish. Bucky doesn't talk about these things much. He's too busy pretending nothing's bothering him. 

Steve wraps an arm around him, still petting the cat with the other hand. "I'm just glad you're still here, fighting back. I know it hasn't been easy."

Bucky's red mouth curves into a smile and he angles his head just enough to meet Steve's eyes. "Had a good reason to keep trying." 

He tilts his head up and kisses him. It's slow and warm and lazy, a far cry from his demanding 'take your pants off, dammit' kisses. He hasn't stopped petting the cat and neither has Steve.

After a while, Bucky pulls back. "You want your present now, too? You'll have to get it. Furball's comfy."

"It's not in your pants, is it?"

Bucky grins. "That's part of it, but your real present's in my nightstand drawer."

Steve expects a better hiding place from a spy of Bucky's caliber, but he gets up and digs out a small rectangular box wrapped in red foil paper with a shiny red bow. It's rumpled at one end and Steve can see Bucky wrapped it himself.

The cat is in his spot curled against Bucky's thigh. Bucky scratches his ears and he's still purring, staring into Bucky's face with an expression that looks a lot like almost instant love. Steve knows the feeling and resigns himself to sitting on Bucky's other side.

He unwraps the present and inside a red foil box lies a small black folder containing a pair of roundtrip airline tickets. Steve looks up. "We're going to Paris?"

"We never did get to see it liberated. We wanted to, remember?"

Steve remembers. They talked about it for most of the war, back when Bucky was still innocent enough to have dreams of fancy champagne and French girls falling into their arms as heroes. They quietly dreamed of a night together in a real bed too, before both of them fell into the ice. 

"You need a vacation," Bucky goes on. "SHIELD didn't wanna let you go, but I changed their minds and it's all cleared. We've leaving on the 30th." 

By 'changed their minds' Bucky meant he had resorted to threats. No wonder he had been so angry the other day. Steve let it go though. He can't wait to walk through the streets of Paris together, remembering what the city had meant to the Allies during the war.

He closes the box with the tickets and sets it carefully on the coffee table. "I don't know what to say, Buck." 

Steve says it with a kiss though, one that lasts until Bucky adds, "We just gotta find somewhere the cat can stay while we're gone."

Bucky's still scratching his head and his cheek. Steve smiles.

"Have you thought of a name?"

"Not yet."

His mouth finds Steve's again and they stay there, pressed closed together, one slow undemanding kiss flowing into the next, for the longest time. Eventually the cat jumps down, and worried he might be in search of a litter box, they get up and set him up with food and water and show him where he's supposed to go to the bathroom. 

He decides he wants to explore the apartment and, leaving him to it, Bucky takes Steve's hand and pulls him into the bedroom.

"I got us something else, too."

He takes a small square basket from the bathroom counter that sure enough holds peppermint-flavored lube and massage oil and a pair of white furry handcuffs that has no real hope of holding either of them.

Bucky puts the massage oil aside on the dresser. "We can save that for tomorrow." He puts the furry handcuffs there too and takes Steve and the peppermint lube into the shower.

They strip off clothes and make the water nice and hot. Steve presses Bucky into the tile, kisses and licks the water running off his stomach and thighs, rubs the flavored lube on Bucky's cock and on his lips to make the slide of his mouth extra slick, and takes his time licking and sucking Bucky until he's moaning with his head thrown back. Steve likes being shameless on his knees for him. Bucky's never needed him to be a symbol above reproach, just the man he is. 

Bucky comes with a drawn out moan and his fingers clenched in Steve's hair. He's shaky for a few minutes afterwards and Steve just holds him. Then Bucky's kissing him again, slipping behind Steve under the spray, sucking water off Steve's neck and along his shoulder while his hands rub down his chest, playing with his nipples until Steve arches into him. His hands move lower, the metal one stroking his cock and the real one gently tugging his balls.

"Bucky..." Steve twists his upper body to seek his mouth. Bucky strokes until Steve is painfully hard. Then he's sliding down, kissing the small of Steve's back and nuzzling his hip from behind and even kissing the curve of his ass while his hands keep up their work. He bites into the firm muscle of one cheek and Steve jumps with a sharp moan.

Bucky laughs and crawls on his knees around to Steve's front, kissing his stomach and stroking his thighs and then cupping his ass with both hands while he draws Steve's cock in his mouth. His tongue flicks over sensitive places and his lips close tight. His fingers rub and circle and tease, but don't push inside him and it works wonders because all Steve can think about is how badly he wants Bucky inside him.

The water's getting cold. Steve tugs Bucky up and they move into the bedroom. Bucky grabs the white marabou handcuffs from the dresser and the Santa hat Steve wore to the charity event earlier.

"Time to have my way with Captain Christmas."

He puts the Santa hat on Steve's head and shoves him on his back on the bed. A minute later Steve's all splayed out, hands fastened to the headboard and legs spread for Bucky to carefully ready him with the peppermint lube and taste it on his cock. Bucky's on his knees when he slides in him, starting up a slow, deep rhythm that keeps building. He stares down at him, dark hair in his eyes, hands tracing Steve's extended arms and his chest and his hips and his thighs. Bucky's hopeless though and before long he's leaning down and kissing Steve's mouth and his neck while Steve draws him closer with his thighs wrapped around him, since he can't do much else with his hands tied but writhe under him. 

Bucky lets him hold him close against his chest when it's over and they've cleaned themselves up for bed. He's sleepy and the smile on his face is a rare, happy one and Steve's not one for luxuries, but he thinks about lying with Bucky in some fancy Paris hotel and he hugs him a little tighter.

"How long have you been planning this trip?"

Bucky adjusts the covers. "I got the idea the other day while you were gone. It's the third time you've been gone this month and you weren't going to admit you needed a break." Neither was Bucky. He plucks the furry handcuffs from beside Steve and tosses them on the nightstand. "We're definitely packing those."

Steve can't help smiling and kisses his forehead. "Does this trip involve any actual sight-seeing?"

Bucky grins up at him. "Haven't planned that part yet."

As they're about to fall asleep, the bedroom door creaks open and the cat gingerly enters, unsure of his welcome. Bucky pats the bed, murmuring, "Come on, furball," and the cat jumps up, settling next to Bucky on Steve's chest for Bucky to pet him.

He starts to purr the instant Bucky does and it's clear he likes him.

**

Steve wakes curled around Bucky's back and the cat is curled against Bucky's stomach, both of them keeping him warm. 

He kisses Bucky's bare shoulder. Bucky groans in his sleep and then his eyes flutter open. His hand goes for the cat and his body relaxes into Steve's.

"You guys are too hot."

"Just making ourselves useful, Buck." Steve kisses his neck and then his cheek. "Merry Christmas. Ready to try out Tony's pancake contraption?"

Bucky groans again at the thought of getting up and stretches under the blankets, but  
he's a soldier. He glances at the clock and just like that he's awake and alert, ready for the long day ahead. 

They make Christmas morning pancakes. The machine mostly works, but Steve finds something lacking in the whole pancake process when you don't get to flip them yourself. That's the modern world though; it likes to eradicate the honest pleasure of simple work and doing things with your own hands. 

The cat hops onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table next to Bucky while they eat. Bucky feeds him bits of scrambled egg and smiles between him and Steve at this semblance of a family. Bucky's been an orphan since the age of twelve and Steve finds himself wondering how he would feel about a real family someday. He wonders how Bucky would react to a ring someday in the future too and the idea of an official commitment. 

They go to the White House late in the morning. Steve puts on his smile for the cameras and Bucky forces himself to smile too though his is a mask hiding the fear that he'll be hauled off for crimes of treason any moment.

They're never sure how much affection people expect them to show. They're not the type to hold hands or to kiss in public so Steve settles for putting an arm around him and leaning close during pictures. He's well aware of the people who don't want to see them touching at all and there are anti-gay groups in the crowd holding up signs calling for a Captain America who represents 'traditional American values'. If Bucky gets angry, he doesn't show it, but Steve finds it sad that even in the future hate and intolerance can't even take a holiday on Christmas. 

They're tired when they get home. Steve comes out of the bedroom after a long hot shower to find Bucky on the couch with the cat in his lap, telling "Furball" how he's just not cut out the way “other daddy" is for big public events. Bucky's petting him almost compulsively and Steve can see it's helping.

If it doesn't, there's plenty of peppermint massage oil for both of them to try


End file.
